


our rendezvous known

by montecarlos



Category: Formula 1 RPF, GP2 Series RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Pining, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9392717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: He didn’t think they loved each other.That leaves a bad taste in his mouth.He finds himself scrolling through his instagram feed in order to stop thinking about Dany - only to stop on a recent photo of Mitch. He pauses for a moment, taking in the sight of the tanned Kiwi. He looks good, but he always does - Mitch is possessed with that ability to look good whenever and Carlos envies him for it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of inspired by the photos that Kelly and Dany have been putting up - I have to say I bear no ill will to either of them, it just served as a perfect plot point for my porn and I am not even sorry. Big thank you to my girls - especially to the wife Nino and Lewis who pushed me to do this and to Emma for making me see this to the end. 
> 
> Title from Late Night Rendezvous by Empires.

_My favourite role's the late night meeting at your door_  
  


* * *

  
  
Carlos had an idea that something was going on between them - he knew Dany well enough to recognise his body, despite his face obscured by a giant black moon. He knew that they were both in the same place, judging by their instagram photos, uploaded within a few minutes of each other. He knows that he should move on - it’s been three years since he and Dany had decided to leave behind what they used to be. It was for the best, it was the best choice for them, Dany had argued. He was on his way to Red Bull and Carlos had just landed the seat at Toro Rosso and they both needed to ensure that their careers were successful. It was hard; Carlos had found it difficult to cut off contact with the man he’d been in love with since they were teenagers but Dany didn’t seem to notice. He seemed emotionless at the thought of moving out of the flat they shared together in Milton Keynes, choosing to move closer to the factory and focus all of his attention on Red Bull.   
  
The focus didn’t pay off. Dany had found himself knocked off his perch, almost destroyed by the people he was willing to throw everything away for. He had called Carlos on the day he had been told, as he tried to hold it together. Carlos had wiped away his tears, had allowed Dany to do what he needed to. Dany had felt cold and closed off even then as he’d pressed inside Carlos, his fingertips seemed to bruise his tanned skin. Carlos had pretended that his eyes weren’t damp with tears when Dany walked out again, the smell of sex curling through the air. They hadn’t fucked since then - Dany hadn’t called him since then, not even when he walked back through the doors of the Toro Rosso headquarters, attempting to hold his head up high. He was different, he’d changed in a way - the demotion had left cracks in his armour that even Carlos couldn’t fix. He watched Dany’s fake smile as they danced through the season, as he waited for another sign, waited for Dany to push his keycard into Carlos’s hand or whisper that he needed him. But he never did. And now he knows why.    
  
It’s New Year’s Day when he sees the photo and everything becomes clear - it’s been clear since Monaco, really, when she turned up in his garage for whatever bullshit reason Dany gave. He’s wearing a familiar shirt - Carlos remembers him wearing it one warm summer’s evening when they both shared the flat in Milton Keynes - his body pressing against her, his hand curled around her own. He doesn’t hate her - she doesn’t know about him, about them - but he feels the envy rise up inside him at the sight of her pressed against him with a small smile on her face. They look happy together, Carlos reasons, as his eyes slide down to glance over the comments, only to stop at the simple, small red heart underneath.   
  
He lets the phone slip from his grasp, allows himself to pretend that he never saw the photo, that Dany hasn’t been with her for months, that she’s the reason that he’s smiling again. It hurts, it still hurts after all this time. When the tears dry on his cheeks, his fingers seek out his half-swollen cock and he tugs on himself under the bedsheets. He strokes himself into hardness, thinks about the last time that Dany had his mouth on his dick. It was months ago - back when they were still dating and Carlos had turned up in Dany’s trailer with dark eyes and swollen lips. Dany was a person who loved the risk, he loved the thrill of being caught - he’d dropped to his knees, knowing that Franz and Christian were only a few feet away in the thin walled office next to Dany’s cool-down room and his mouth found Carlos’s cock.    
Carlos moans out, his mouth twisting into the thick duvet as he thinks about Dany’s mouth on him, as he thinks about how the Russian pulls his hair, his fingers tracing over tanned skin, how Dany says his name, slowly, intentionally, rolling off his tongue with such intention -    
  
It doesn’t even take long for him to come with a gasp, Dany’s name still on his lips as he arches his back, the pearlescent semen dampening the inside of his thin cotton shorts. His mind still flashes with images of Dany, of him a few months ago, dark hair smeared with sweat, his lips swollen from kisses and his eyes dark with desire. He doesn’t even feel guilty about it - the orgasm was worth it, he thinks.    
  


* * *

  
  
However, the next photo comes through a few days later on Carlos’s recommended blogs when he’s scrolling through Tumblr - it’s a black and white one, Dany always liked those of him standing with her presumably in Italy. He looks good, he looks happy and that makes Carlos’s heart twist at the sensation. He remembers seeing Dany that carefree, his facial hair slightly outgrown and a small smile on his lips - but he doesn’t see that side anymore. Dany won’t allow him to - they’re teammates now and he must keep his distance. They’re nothing but colleagues now, certainly to Dany - and Carlos has to pretend that he’s not wanking over the Russian. It’s easier said than done. He reads over her words at the bottom of the post again and again - he knows the word well, Dany used to whisper it to him, once wrote it over his wrist with his Sharpie - люблю - love. Love.    
  
He didn’t think they  _ loved _ each other.    
  
That leaves a bad taste in his mouth.    
  
He finds himself scrolling through his instagram feed in order to stop thinking about Dany - only to stop on a recent photo of Mitch. He pauses for a moment, taking in the sight of the tanned Kiwi. He looks good, but he always does - Mitch is possessed with that ability to look good whenever and Carlos envies him for it. The Kiwi is in America, doing some sort of race for Formula E, his tanned skin seems to illuminate in the sunlight, his hair turning an almost copper-black colour, his wide white smile on view for everyone to see. Mitch and he have history - but then everyone has history with Mitch - and it’s complicated, but that doesn’t stop Carlos pulling up Mitch’s number and firing off a text. It’s probably a long shot, Mitch is probably busy with his tongue down Antonio Costa’s throat or busy shagging Alex Lynn somewhere but he figures it’s worth a shot.    
  
_ I miss you. Fancy meeting up sometime? _   
  
_ Thought u’d never ask, Sainz. Give me a fw days. My bed or yrs?  _ is the instantaneous reply and Carlos feels the smirk brush over his face. He could always rely on Mitch to provide some much needed entertainment. Another text comes through from Mitch.    
  
_ Can’t wait to suck your cock again, Chili.  _ __  
  
Carlos bites his lip, wonders if Mitch is in bed underneath the covers in his parents house wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. He’s about to type out a reply when a photo comes through and Carlos’s mouth dries at the sight. Mitch fills his screen, biting down on his lip, his hand shoved down his boxer shorts as he stares into the camera. The smirk hangs in the corner of his mouth, the tantalising trail of dark hair that teases the Spaniard poking out from his pair of boxer shorts - Calvin Kleins, purple of course, it’s  __ Mitch after all - Carlos knows he shouldn’t but his hand finds his hardening cock, fingers brushing over the pre-come and smearing it all over the thin cotton of his boxer shorts. He wanks off to the photo, to the thoughts of Mitch underneath him panting and crying out his name. 

He doesn’t think of Dany once as he arches his back, semen clinging to his boxer shorts and fingers as he comes with Mitch’s name on his lips.    
  


* * *

  
  
Mitch shows up a week later with tanned skin, fresh from Richie’s party life back in New Zealand, a wide smile on his lips and a fresh lovebite on the curve of his neck. Carlos doesn’t ask where he got it from, he doesn’t really even need to know - he assumes it’s Richie judging from the wild Instagram snaps that he viewed - and he knows that the pair of them have history, that Richie took Mitch’s virginity all those years ago. Carlos can’t blame him, Mitch is a very handsome young man.    
  
“Long time no see, Chili,” Mitch says, trying to lighten the mood but Carlos is no mood to waste any time pretending that he invited Mitch over for anything less than a blowjob. Mitch seems to anticipate that, allowing Carlos to tug him through to the lounge. “Someone’s hungry,”   
  
“Haven’t had sex for months,” Carlos admits and Mitch’s eyes seem to gleam as he presses the Spaniard into the soft cushions of his couch.    
  
“No sex for months? Why the fuck not, Sainz? Don’t tell me that you’ve been pining over him again-”   
  
Carlos silences Mitch with his own mouth. “Don’t talk about him,” He mutters against the Kiwi’s lips, their bodies gliding together as Mitch’s hand brushes over the thick dark curls winding over Carlos’s neck. Carlos lets himself get lost in Mitch - in the slightly chapped lips pressing against his own. All thoughts of Dany disappear as Mitch tugs on his curls, his tongue brushing over the crease of Carlos’s lips. It’s not the first time they’ve kissed - and it probably will not be the last - but there’s something about the Kiwi that Carlos can’t resist, something that the Spaniard opens up in him every single time.    
  
“Oh god, Sainz,” Mitch mutters lowly against the crease of his lips as a moan pulls itself from Carlos’s mouth. Mitch’s tongue slips past his open lips, his tongue swirling gently over his mouth. Mitch tastes sweet - almost like sweets, the minty taste of his toothpaste still lingering - his tongue probing gently over the corners of Carlos’s mouth. The Kiwi pushes in closer, his body brushing against the Spaniard’s as his other hand moves to slowly dance over Carlos’s body, marking out every inch. Carlos gasps against Mitch’s mouth as his fingers slide underneath the waistband of his skinny jeans - the ones that Dany liked so much - he shakes his head as though to dismiss the thought, as Mitch’s lips curve into a smile against his own. Mitch’s fingers move to tease over his half-hard cock and Carlos feels his back arch. He’s right, it’s been months since anyone touched him in this way and he’s missed it.    
  
“Chili,” Mitch breathes out, ripping his mouth away, his eyes dark and full of desire, his lips still shine with saliva. “Fuck, Carlos,” He murmurs again as his hand moves up and down over the Spaniard’s cock, the pre-come smearing all over his fingers. The back of Carlos’s head falls against the side of the couch, neck pressing into the cushions as Mitch pulls him back into a kiss. Mitch’s lips are warm against his own, his tongue sweeping back into Carlos’s mouth. His fingers trace over the shaft and Carlos thinks about Dany for a moment, remembers how Dany used to stare at him with heavy lidded eyes, with semen in the corner of his mouth.    
  
“You better not be thinking of him, Chili,” Mitch says softly, as his other hand slowly begins to unbutton Carlos’s tight jeans, easing them slowly down his thighs. Carlos lets out the breath that he didn’t know he had been holding.    
  
“Mitch-” Carlos whispers out, the name curving through the air as he thrusts his hips forward, making Mitch smirk. His fingers trace over the sensitive tanned skin, as he pulls the jeans down. Carlos gasps out as the cool air hits his cock, Mitch’s pupils dilate at the sight of the hard-half cock standing proudly in front of him. His hand slowly brushes over the hardened shaft, fingers dancing over the leaking tip of Carlos’s cock. Carlos lays back as Mitch leans forward, eyes still gleaming.    
  
His warm lips brush over his sensitive dick.    
  
“Oh god, Mitch,” Carlos bites out as Mitch’s tongue traces over the vein, over the slightly sticky skin. Mitch hums, sending waves of pleasure through Carlos’s body. He feels the familiar curls of pleasure wash over him. He’s missed it - he stopped going out and searching for it after Dany broke it off, he never thought that he would feel that ever again. Mitch’s eyes are dark pools before him, his cheeks hollowed out showcasing off his delicious cheekbones - the cheekbones that Carlos had dreams about before - his tongue slowly moving over the leaking tip of Carlos’s cock. Carlos arches into the warmth of Mitch’s mouth as the Kiwi’s hands slowly move over his hips.    
  
Mitch’s name brushes past Carlos’s lips, slowly, almost teasingly and he watches Mitch smirk around his dick - his lips slowly moving up and down over his shaft. Mitch seems to trace over every inch of the sensitive skin, his fingertips rubbing circles into the soft skin of Carlos’s hips. His mouth moves to circle the base of Carlos’s cock, his head slowly bobbing up and down. Carlos’s hands move to slip into the dark, thick hair of the Kiwi in front of him. Mitch groans against his cock as Carlos tugs on his hair, grabbing onto the soft silky strands.    
  
His fingers tighten over the strands as Mitch’s mouth sweeps over his leaking shaft, moving down to dance over the base of his cock sucking at the soft sensitive skin there. Carlos gasps and thrusts upwards. Mitch smirks against his cock, his tongue slowly pushing over the tanned skin. The only noise in the room is that of Mitch’s mouth slapping against Carlos’s cock and that of Carlos’s groan as he feels Mitch’s tnogue press against the base of his cock, his swollen lips covered with a thin layer of slick saliva. He feels the warmth build inside him - Dany is just a distant memory by now for him, he thinks only of Mitch in that moment, of his eyes sparkling, dark with desire - he gasps out as Mitch’s teeth scrape against the sensitive skin, the Kiwi humming against the shaft. He knows exactly what to do to make Carlos shake with desire. His orgasm builds as Mitch’s dark eyes lock with his own.    
  
“Fucking hell, Mitch,” Carlos calls out breathlessly as Mitch laps at the pre-come pooling around his dick, smirking at the noises that he pulls from the Spaniard. His fingertips press in tighter against Carlos’s hips, his tongue moving to dip in and out of the slit, as Carlos arches his back, his eyes falling shut as he suddenly comes in the Spaniard’s mouth. Carlos allows his back to fall against the soft sheets as the orgasm washes over him - Mitch’s mouth catching all of the sticky, salty come as it mixes with the excess saliva. Carlos is still sated from his orgasm, the warmth and satisfaction washing over him as Mitch pulls away, a small thread of come still sticking to his lip. He slumps against Carlos with a satisfied smile, his hands moving to slowly stroke over the hair curving down towards the Spaniard’s now limp cock, eyes dark and pupils blown. He captures Carlos’s lips in a small kiss - it’s barely a brush of the lips - the pair of them lay entangled on the couch, thinking only of each other.    
  
It’s only after a few minutes that Mitch pulls out his phone and snaps a few photos of them curled up together, smiles on their faces. It’s only later on when Carlos is checking his phone and sees Dany’s like on the photo of Mitch lying on his bare chest, a small smile on his face, that he realises that it’s over. He realises that he’s free and although he’s not sure exactly what is going on with Mitch, what is going to happen between them, the shackles between Dany and himself are gone.    
  
He’s free. He pulls Mitch closer and wonders if they could fuck again in the shower. It’s worth a shot, he thinks, his nose tickling Mitch’s hair.    



End file.
